Is It Too Late To Try?
by citigirl13
Summary: She stares at the payphone. She's trying to turn away but she knows that she has to make that call. A D/E fic after Elena has turned. Hope you enjoy!


**I feel a little guilty: I haven't written for TVD in a while now; I've been obsessed with **_**Queer as Folk **_**for a while now and have given myself over to that. But I ended up writing this fanfic. **

**This hasn't turned out as good as I had hoped but I hope you'll like it. It's inspired by the song **_**Payphone**_** which I suggest you listen to; my favourite version is the cover by Tyler Ward and Katie McAllister. **

**I don't know when I'll be able to write more for TVD but I hope this fic will tide you over.**

**DISLCAIMER:**** I do not own**_** The Vampire Diaries **_**or any of the characters**

**xXx**

**Is It Too Late To Try?**

She is standing absolutely still (that has a new definition now that she's a vampire) having a silent war with the payphone in front of her. She has enough money to call – she's already counted her change three times. Still her transformation doesn't make you good at maths. _It's the one thing it doesn't give you_, Elena thinks sourly.

She types in the number. She doesn't think twice about it. It's strange; she didn't even realise that she had it memorised until now.

It only rings once before he picks up. "Hello?"

She sucks in her breath. Her vampire hearing has made everything sound so much clearer now. She never realised how beautiful his voice sounded. She can't pin-point what it is, but it reminds her of an old song her father used to play in the car after long journeys. It wasn't soothing and went down like warm whisky when you have a cold. _That's _what his voice reminds her of.

He quickly gets impatient – he's never been able to control his temper. "Hello?" he repeats. "Elena?"

She closes her eyes allowing his voice to wash over her. "Damon."

Suddenly she's crying. It's another thing she blames becoming a vampire on: her emotions are whirling round like strawberries in a blender, sharp and splattering. It doesn't make sense but as soon as she heard his voice, as soon as she said his name, she felt her nerves snap and now she can't contain her tears. She tries to rear it back, but her breathing is harsh and he can hear it.

"Elena?" He's anxious now; she can tell he's at the end of his own tether. "What's wrong? _Where are you?_"

That's what he wants: to find her. He's called her at least fifty times, more than Stefan (forty two), Jeremy (forty one) and Caroline (thirty nine). She needed to get away: every little noise seemed too loud; every voice seemed too tense; every silence breathed down her neck. She took a chance when Damon and Stefan were fighting and managed to sneak out without anyone noticing. She hasn't driven; after all, what better time to test out her vampire speed?

She avoids her question. "Damon," she whispers. "I did – I-" She can't say it; it chokes as it comes up her throat and she sobs this time. Her entire chest heaves at the memories and she squeezes her eyes shut, more tears slipping down her cheeks.

"Elena, tell me." He's half-pleading, half-insisting. "I'm going out my mind here, _please_."

_Wow, Damon Salvatore just said "please". I hope I can get a recording of this conversation._

She doesn't want to tell him – Damon, who has held her up on a pedestal, not that he would admit it. But she can't keep this in; the confession is fighting to slip from inside her. And it's better to tell Damon than to tell Stefan. To Stefan she is pure; she has forgiven him and given him so many chances, how can she not be perfect to him? No matter how much Damon loves her, he of all people will understand her mistakes. He's made plenty of them.

It takes a few tries to get the words out, and when she does it comes out in a fragile rush. "I killed two people Damon. I – I drained them. I didn't mean to, I couldn't help it, I couldn't s-stop." She sobs again but continues through it. "And then I was only going to take a little blood, I wasn't going to kill them Damon but I didn't realise, they were dead – they were alive before, I made sure of it and then all of a sudden they weren't-" Her words run out and all she can do is cry.

How could she kill them? When she had judged the others on it? Stefan biting Amber, staring at Elena with those hollow cold eyes? Caroline with her face covered in red, her hair with a spattering of blood? Damon is the only one who has never lost control, not in the way Stefan or Caroline have. And yet he didn't think twice about draining a girl. She had been so condemning towards him, yet look at her now: pot meet bloody kettle.

Two people. She has drained and killed two people. She thought she would be able to handle it. In the house with the others bringing her blood bags, she seemed to have the cravings under control. She'll admit at first it was amazingly difficult. You can't comprehend it unless you've been through it; the closest you can get to is a person being addicted to drugs. Standing next to a person – even standing next to _Jeremy _– she could feel the blood running through their veins, and if she focused she would be able to hear their heart beating (it beats so many times: she counted eighty once, a hundred and two another, sixty nine in another person). But that was at first. It had been a few weeks since then, and she had been able to stay alone with Jeremy in the house and be fine.

She was wrong.

The first victim had been a kind man, middle aged in walking shoes. She had somehow wound her way up on a hiking trail. She had been resting against a tree when he found her. She must have looked like shit because he asked her if she was alright. "I'm fine," she had squeezed out, trying to get him away from her. _Please leave. You don't know what I can do_, she had begged.

"Are you sure?"

If he had turned away, he may have just kept his life. She might have been able to get away before the blood craving got too much. But he _had _to make sure that she was okay, he was worried about her. After that question she noticed his vein on his neck and it was too late. She leapt on him and before she knew it she had dropped his lifeless body to the ground.

The second victim was a girl. She had seen Elena sobbing and asked her what was wrong. She was still upset (devastated, destroyed, heartbroken) over the death of that man. When she turned to that girl she felt all her emotions reach boiling point and explode: all the _rage_, all the _resentment_, all the _loss_, all the _sadness,_ all the _fear_, all the _disgust_, all the _shame_, all the _self-loathing_, all the _despair_ came to a head. She can't explain all of those emotions coming together like that. She has no recollection of biting the girl until she felt the girl's fingers uncurling round her arm and then realised what she was doing. She pulled away but it was too late.

In her dreams she will see two pairs of dead eyes staring at her.

Damon begins to talk. "It's okay," he says. He's trying to be gentle but his voice is too fast. "It's alright Elena. It happens, not one vampire can say that it hasn't happened to them. I'll come get you."

His words do little to comfort her. She doesn't care about other vampires. She cares about her life, and she's wrecking it. She can't blame it on anyone else. Even if she's a vampire, she still has a choice: to kill or not to kill. And she's made that choice.

Quietly crying now she says, "This isn't me Damon. _How_ can this be me?"

"I know Elena. I remember." And he does. No vampire can forget the feeling when they look in the mirror and doesn't recognise the _thing_ staring back at them.

"I'm a monster."

She remembers hearing those words slip out of Caroline's mouth and, staring at her back then, she couldn't help but think, _yes you are. _Maybe karma is kicking in now.

"Elena, just tell me where are you. I'll help you."

"I used to believe in fairytales you know," she whispers. Her throat is sore from the crying but she can't stop herself from talking. She needs to get this out. "Not with unicorns or pots of gold at the end of a rainbow. But I used to think that there were white knights that would save princesses from castles. Or that one kiss could make everything right again. Or even just that things, my life..." She cries harder when she thinks of these words, at the thought of them. "...could end happily ever after. But I can't believe in them any more Damon."

"Elena, don't. Please just...I don't know, but don't go there."

She pauses then. Damon's voice is different than usual. It's more strained than before, if that was possible. But it's raspy too, as if... As if _he's_ fighting tears. The surprise stops her own tears for a moment. But these thoughts, these confessions are escaping her like air from a tyre and she can't stop now, even if she wanted to.

"I'm a vampire. If fairytales exist then they're the dark ones with witches and goblins. There is no happy ever after."

"Elena, you're _wrong_."

"Prove it then!" She is shouting down the phone now, her tears and nose running. She's in danger of flooding this phone box if she's not careful. "When has that _ever _happened Damon? You've been alive for over a century – when has someone ever gotten a happy ever after?"

Damon speaks, his voice raspy and filled with rage all at once. "Don't you get it Elena? Look at _me_. I may not get a happily ever after in the end, but at least I have a _chance_ now. Even if you and I are over, you've changed _me_. You made me feel again Elena. You've given me hope for the first time in years. So even if we're over and we can never be together, I think that you've made it so that I could at least be happy. Maybe I could find someone else..." Elena feels her heart clench when he says that, even if his voice wavers as he says it. "...and even if there's no one else in the world that I can be with, then at least I know what it's like. I know what _love _is like and you'll..." He takes a shaky breath and Elena knows he's crying too. "...you'll always be a part of that. _That's _the fairytale Elena: a tale of redemption and second chances."

The silence is broken by Elena's sniffling. Now it's Damon who is crying. He's trying to hide it and maybe if she was human she wouldn't have heard it, but her vampire hearing picks it up. She can't believe he's the one who's in tears. Nothing can make her realise his words are true than hearing him crying – since when did Damon Salvatore cry? _She's _the one who's done that.

She doesn't know whether to laugh or cry over that.

"Say it Damon." She is calmer now. She wipes her hand against her cheeks and takes another breath. "Say it."

"I love you."

Elena closes her eyes. Those words from him have made her feel guilty for so long now, have made her feel sad and angry. But she really has changed because now she feels herself accepting them. She remembers him smiling at her in their first meeting – the _first _one, the one he made her forget – and him standing in front of her and telling him that he doesn't deserve her. Now that she remembers she can't forget.

With the constant ache in her heart after she rejects him every time makes her think that in some ways she's never forgotten.

"I love you too."

She hears him draw a breath. She wishes she could see his face. She wonders if it's crumbling in relief, in joy at finally, _finally _hearing someone say those words to him. Finally hearing those words from her. She wishes she could be with him. When she pictured saying those words to him, she had always been opposite him. She had never thought of saying it over the phone, and she curses herself for not waiting to say it to him when she saw him. But at least she's said it.

"I know I've been awful to you Damon," she begins. "I know that you've given me enough chances and I've blown them all. And I also know that even if we do have a relationship it doesn't mean that we'll end up with our happy ever after, but is it too late try?"

Her heart is in her mouth when she finishes, wondering if it's enough. Unfortunately the only reply she hears is the dialling tone. She stares at the screen which informs her that all her change has run out. "Damon?" she asks, but the only answer is the flat line of the phone.

She closes her eyes. _Of course. _What have they had if not bad timing, rotten chances? Reluctantly she hangs up the phone. She turns round and honestly, she doesn't know where she'll go – home she guesses, but she's not even sure how to get there –

She freezes.

Damon is outside the phone box.

Of course he is; he always seems to find her even when _she _doesn't know where she is.

He looks torn apart, his hair a mess and his eyes red. But Damon cannot look ugly; even now Elena is taken away by his tragic beauty. She on the other hand must look like a train wreck: the bottoms of her jeans are streaked with dried mud, her hair is frizzled and she can tell her face is puffed up from all the crying she's done. She's no beauty queen, that's for sure. She wishes she could stop time so she could find a dress, put on her makeup and re-do her hair.

She stops so fast that she moves forward a little before halting. If her heart could beat it would be hammering away right now. Did he hear her question? Is he willing to accept her after she's thrown him back so many times? His face doesn't give anything away. And then:

"It's never too late."

When he smiles it is the first time she's ever seen him happy.

She feels the stress from her entire body evaporate. She leaps from the payphone and he pulls her into a hug. She buries herself into his shoulder and he holds her so tight that if she wasn't a vampire she would have been crushed. She pulls away only for a second and she doesn't have time to say anything because his lips are on hers. The kiss is soft, gradually growing stronger. She feels a familiar sense of thrill as a tingling sensation spreads through her body, that electrifying feeling that makes her think that if anyone else touched her Damon's voltage would zap them back.

It's that moment, when she's standing by the side of the road, that Elena begins to believe in happy endings again.


End file.
